Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after dusk, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

idk

kind of mythopoesis

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

magnetisation/form

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

so at the end

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

you cannot feed someone truth

propensity within someone

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

so an active mazelike process

not their contents

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

i see a website

Better Lift

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.


that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

i have read not even 1 book